Kitchen Witch

7 | Whispers and Waves

An expanse of blue came into view as Charlotte began to crest the top of a hill. She guessed "Ocean" out loud, only to discover that it was a blue sky seconds later. A content grin spread across her face as she thought of how much she enjoyed driving here on the island. There's something freeing about not knowing what's around the next bend, she mused.

She had been out exploring every day since she left isolation. Her favourite thing to do was to turn down unknown red dirt roads to find off-the-beaten-path access to the shoreline. She found that these more secluded spots held a treasure trove of sea glass if you looked long enough. A gas station was coming into view, and Charlotte glanced down at the meter to see if she needed a top-up. The price of gas on the island had been a bit of a shock compared to Ontario, but it was something she considered a necessity not just in terms of getting about but for her sanity.  "A full tank of gas means freedom," she thought, "and I'm not ready to start rationing that yet".

She wasn't a stranger to watching her pennies. Despite appearances, he had always given her a small allowance to make do with. Her brand-name clothing had been bought at warehouse sales and second-hand from consignment shops. She watched the flyers religiously and made her menu plans around sales. When there was extra left, she had always spent it on the children, making sure they were never in want of anything. She had always thought it strange that he had made her fight for every dollar and expected her and their home to hold a certain standard. He had never seemed to shy away from spending money on extravagances for himself, though. Charlotte bit down on her lip and stepped on the gas, accelerating quickly over the next hill. The car was revving up in a defiant waste of gas. Charlotte reached over, turned up the radio, and enjoyed the fall breeze blowing through the car.

The thought of finances, though, had left a lingering anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach. She didn't have to worry yet, but at some point, she would have to start providing for herself. She hoped to get a home-based business going selling her teas and compounds. She had a package sitting next to her on the passenger seat for Sarah, whom she had met at the Harbor Haven Market the other day. She had packaged up some of her sleepy-time tea in a mason jar and tied it with a ribbon. She had also added some of her favourite homemade lip balm and hand cream that not only smelled delicious but had a notable calming effect. Charlotte's face lit up, thinking of Sarah and her pink and purple striped hair. She had taken to her almost instantly; she had a way of putting people at ease.

Charlie let out a pleading whine as Charlotte tied him to the front porch of the market. "I won't be long old boy." Charlotte retrieved her package from the ground and went to pull her mask from her pocket but changed her mind, remembering that people didn't wear them here on the island. She was still having trouble getting used to things being so normal. She almost felt guilty for the freedoms she was allowed, knowing just how hard it was for everyone outside the Atlantic bubble. She felt a knot in her stomach thinking of her friends back home. She still hadn't called to check in; she had let it slide so long that she now felt too guilty to call. She took two quick breaths and headed inside the market, thinking she almost missed the mask and the comfort it gave hiding behind it.

Sarah was busy at the counter talking with two older women. They were engaged in a pretty lively conversation, with the red-headed one giving the other lady what seemed like a good razzing. Charlotte hung back, looking over the penny candy, when she heard Sarah call her name.

"Charlotte," Sarah waved her over. It's good to see you back, and please bring that sweet doggie in. I can't bear to hear him crying like that." She smiled.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely, I love dogs. I might even have a biscuit or two hidden here." Sarah patted her apron pocket.

Charlotte turned back towards the door, and the sound of the bells ringing had Charlie dancing from foot to foot in anticipation. "Good news, Charlie. It looks like you're about to make a new friend." That was all the encouragement Charlie needed as he bounded inside the store and somehow instinctively went straight to Sarah, pouncing her with his big paws.

Charlie made instant friends with Sarah, their energies matching one another. Sarah introduced her and Charlie to the other women, the Quinn sisters, Violet and Beatrice.

Violet, her bright blue eyes twinkling with mischief, asked, "Did you hear, Beatrice, that Charlotte here is from away? Just moved here, all the way from Ontario!"

Beatrice, a stout, elderly, redheaded woman with a warm smile, leaned in with a conspiratorial wink. "Oh, we know, we got's eyes and ears everywhere, dear. The whole island could probably use a bit of excitement, and you've come at just the right time."

Charlotte chuckled, feeling a bit like she was in the middle of a local drama. "Well, I'm afraid I'm not that–interesting." The last part was muffled by the sound of the doorbells, to which they all turned to see who had entered the store. Only there wasn't anyone there, nor had anyone left.

Violet's eyes gleamed. "Well, that's strange– Oh, don't you worry, dear, you've got a certain... spark." She glanced at Beatrice, who nodded in agreement.

Beatrice patted Charlotte on the arm with a reassuring gesture. "And don't let Violet get to you. She's got a way of making everything sound like it's straight out of a soap opera. But honestly, we're glad to have you. New blood means new stories."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, amused. "Stories, huh? I imagine there's a lot of gossip on this island."

Violet gave a raspy cackle. "Oh, honey, we're practically the historians of gossip. You'd be surprised at what we know—who's seeing whom, who's got the best pies, and of course, every bit of scandal that ever happens."

Beatrice leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But we've got a soft spot for good tea." She gave Charlotte a knowing smile.

Charlotte smiled warmly. "I'll keep that in mind. And thank you for the warm welcome."

After bidding farewell to Sarah and the Quinn sisters, Charlotte gathered her things and headed back to the car, Charlie still prancing with the exuberance of a dog who'd just made a new best friend. With the sun beginning its descent, casting a golden hue over the island, Charlotte decided to take a quick detour. She followed the narrow road that veered away from the market, its red dirt curving toward an inviting stretch of shoreline she had yet to explore. The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink as she parked the car near a secluded beach.

Charlotte stepped out of the vehicle, the salty breeze wrapping around her like an old friend. Charlie bounded ahead, eager to explore the sand. Walking toward the water, she felt a sense of peace settle over her. The gentle waves lapped at the shore and the distant cry of seagulls added to the island's serene atmosphere.

She wandered along the beach, her thoughts drifting as freely as the waves. The late afternoon light shimmered on the ocean, and the sky above seemed almost too perfect as if it were a painting that had come to life. As she picked up a particularly smooth piece of sea glass, she noticed something peculiar. The breeze had picked up, swirling around her with a playful energy that felt almost alive. The wind tugged at her hair and rustled the edges of her scarf. Charlotte laughed softly, lifting her face to the wind. Her breath formed tiny clouds in the cooling air, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation, as though something was just beyond her reach.

Charlie darted towards a cluster of rocks, his playful bark echoing through the evening air. As Charlotte followed, she spotted a figure in the distance—someone standing near the water's edge, casting a fishing line into the waves. The figure's red hair gleamed in the fading light, and Charlotte felt a strange, inexplicable pull. The fisherman, absorbed in his task, didn't notice her. Charlotte stopped, hesitating, her curiosity piqued. She could feel the wind swirling around her more intensely, almost as if urging her to come closer. But she held back, not wanting to intrude, her inner critic questioning her sanity for even thinking of approaching him.

With one last look at the red-haired fisherman, she turned and began to head back to her car. The wind seemed to sigh in disappointment, gently guiding her steps back along the beach. Charlotte's thoughts were a whirl of curiosity and wonder. She knew she was on the brink of something new, but what exactly it was, she couldn't yet fathom.